Therapy
by Satan Abraham
Summary: Things with Drake usually end up going in a different direction than intended. Whatever the original direction was, anyway. Oneshot. Rated T for language.


What the hell was going on.

Drake stepped back out of the room. The door swung shut in front of him and he backed away, debating fucking _sprinting _away. No, no he was just seeing things. Just… just seeing things.

But if it was – if he was just seeing things, then _why was Caine running for the door as fast as he was?_

Before Drake had time to react, Caine blew the door open and Drake was suddenly slammed against the wall. He let out a hiss of breath between his teeth and pushed back, trying to struggle and flop and _break Caine's goddam fingers_, but all he could do was swear and twitch his feet and clench his fists.

"I'm getting more powerful," Caine murmured, lowering his hands. Drake collapsed to the ground, feeling dizzy and light-headed. He managed to get to his feet, swaying a little.

"What the-" Drake choked out. "What the _fuck _was that?"

Caine didn't answer, and Drake lost whatever patience he may have had. He lunged, closing his hands over Caine's because _whatever he'd just fucking done had come from those stupid perfect hands _and pushed him back into the other room. Caine looked surprised, like he couldn't believe someone as _lowly _and _insane_ as Drake would _touch_ him, of course not, of fucking course not. The thought made Drake grin. And Caine couldn't do anything about it oh fuck he had a hand free a hand had come free _how the fuck had he gotten –_

…

He opened his eyes and instantly regretted it. It was bright; too bright to keep his eyes open. He was about to shut them again when that skinny, ugly bitch Penny appeared overhead. Drake tried to move, to shove her out of the way or throttle her, whichever was faster, but he couldn't move for some reason. It wasn't that freak thing Caine had done; no, he could feel restraints and his arms were… weird.

He tore his gaze away from glaring at Penny and looked down. A straitjacket and what looked like a few kids' belts. "What the _fuck _is this?" Drake snarled. "Let me go, you-"

"Shut up, Drake," Caine snapped. Drake twisted his head to glare at him, but he was out of sight. Drake glared at nothing until his neck began to hurt and he put it back into its original position. He heard another voice – _oh, _this was just _great, Diana _was here, oh how fan-fucking-tastic, _Diana, _what a lovely bitch for him to have at his fan-fucking-tastic _exorcism_ or whatever the hell this was – say something quietly, probably to the out-of-sight Caine.

_That _was probably why he was here instead of waking up in that stupid room where Caine had done… whatever he'd done. Diana. It was all her fault, yep, all her fucking fault he was shoved in a straightjacket and strapped onto what felt like two desks just pushed together. Fucking _amateurs._

It was too quiet. Drake didn't like it; even the whispering of Diana had stopped, and now he was just lying on the table, squinting his eyes against the too-bright light, twitching, waiting.

Finally some noise – a whispered conference between what sounded like Caine, Diana, and Penny. Drake could only hear snippets: "how do you scare him" and "figure it out" and "be creative" and "can't you make him feel pain" and "I've never tried and "can't we just physically hurt him." To be honest, Drake would be fine with some honest-to-god pain if it meant he could get _out of here. _

Eventually, though, Penny reappeared. She was smiling. Drake couldn't tell if the smile looked happy or totally forced; she was a good actor or Drake just sucked at reading people.

"You're insane, Drakey," she cooed, brushing hair away from his face. He jerked away, biting back a growl. _Damn it, _fucking _damn it_, what the hell was she doing? "So we decided some therapy was in order."

"_Therapy? THERAPY? _I don't need no goddam _therapy, _I already went through that shit thirty times over and you fuckers won't be able to do _anything," _Drake snapped, and he saw Penny waver. She looked off to the side, off to the out-of-sight-Caine. "Yeah, that's right. _Be afraid."_

She suddenly turned to him and grabbed onto both sides of his face but she wasn't Penny anymore no she was every horror movie villain in the flesh all rolled into one it didn't scare him no he wasn't scared (not scared not scared not scared these were his _idols _not his nightmares _HE WAS THE GODDAM NIGHTMARE) _but he wanted her – his – its claws – talons – hands _off of his face. _He twisted, but it seemed like he didn't move at all and _she _was laughing and _Diana _was laughing and _everyone _was laughing and now it was Caine, not IT – Freddy – Jason above him holding his face and now he was just _mad. _

"Get the _hell _out of my face, freak," Drake said. Caine – no it was Penny, right it was Penny and Penny was a freak just like Caine _why the hell were there so many freaks. _Caine – Penny moved closer to his face and Drake twisted, whipping his head away and out of his – her hands, twisting and feeling the pressure of the belts, fighting to get out of the straitjacket and failing miserably.

He heard Penny speak, but it was too distorted; he couldn't quite hear what she said. Her Caine face began to melt away and he jerked away, getting out of the way before melted flesh landed on him. He wasn't scared, no not scared _disgusted, _it was _disgusting_ the bitch was messed up in the _head _he wanted _out. _

Caine's voice floated around him, and he still couldn't really make out what he was saying but this time he had an idea, something about "this isn't good enough" Penny wasn't good enough _well of course she wasn't good enough, _she was _Penny._

And then everything came perfectly back into focus. Penny left – _or did she was she really still there – _and Caine showed up. A pair of dice floated above his hand, like he was just _flaunting _his _stupid freak power_. Like Drake _cared._

"What scares you, Drake?" Caine asked, calm, too calm. "What makes you cry?"

"Nothing," Drake asked, baring his teeth in a grin. "Now just _let me go."_

Penny appeared beside Caine and Drake eyed her with distrust. She grinned, and then the whole place was on fire. Caine and Penny were gone and Drake was all alone and _burning, _fire was lapping up his straightjacket and he could see it light in his hair _why wasn't he dead –_

Penny. Drake laughed, and the fire died down. He grinned up at Penny. "Nice try," he said. "Now – why is this even happening? Is it because I walked in on Caine using his freak powers? Is that it?"

"You're a danger to society," Caine said without much conviction. Drake laughed again. He could see that Caine was getting unnerved – Penny had left when her stupid freak power had stopped working – and this made him laugh harder. He was screaming with laughter, his head tipped back and his body fighting against the restraints of the belts.

Diana's dry voice came from the back of the room. "Well, Caine, he's snapped," she said. "What are you planning on doing with him now?"

Drake sobered immediately. "How about the queen bitch of Coates shuts the fuck up?" he asked. Caine hit him, and his head thumped back against the desk. Though a bit stunned, he grinned lazily up at Caine. "Protective, are we?"

Caine looked like he wanted to hit Drake again. Instead he let the dice drop and unbelted Drake. As soon as he was free, Drake sat up, grinning, sandy-blond hair falling into his eyes. The stupid straightjacket was still on, but Caine got rid of that as well,

"Well," Drake said. "I'll say one thing, Caine, you really are a shitty therapist."

* * *

**First of all these are Drake's opinions on characters not mine I do actually kind of like Diana she's kind of badass. **

**And secondly, sorry, I really have no idea what this is but I had fun writing it? :D**

**tbh this fandom kind of scares me**


End file.
